Portraits
by prxnceling
Summary: Elrond's family sits for a portrait. Chaos ensues, and Elrond learns what it means to be a good father.


Even Elrohir was squirming now from where he sat in Celebrían's lap. The thought made Elrond's heart sink. Elladan had been wriggling in his lap since the very beginning, but even the more patient of his sons was now beginning to grow restless after less than an hour of sitting.

"How much longer now, Ada?" Elladan asked, looking up at him from his lap. Elrond resisted the urge to sigh.

"A while longer yet, darling," Celebrían replied for him. "Come now, look back at the painter."

"He's not even working on us," Elrohir said quietly. "He's working too high on the canvas. He must be doing Ada."

A surprised glance over the top of the canvas from the painter's apprentice, a young woman, indicated that Elrohir's observation was correct. Elrond sighed.

"Even so. If you move much we'll never get you quite back to how you are now, Elladan," Elrond said.

It had been _much_ easier when the twins were newborns. They'd slept through the entire thing. Even as toddlers, they'd been easy enough to entertain. Now that they were a bit older, the family portrait session was like torture.

Elladan huffed and crossed his arms, his back stiffening so he wasn't leaning against Elrond anymore, apparently angry at not getting the answer he wanted. A few more minutes passed.

"I need the bathroom, Nana," Elrohir said. He looked up to her with wide eyes, as if afraid she would tell him he was doomed to hold it until they were done.

"Me too! Me too!" Elladan chanted, suddenly bouncing in Elrond's lap. Elrond was less sure that Elladan actually needed to use the bathroom, but could not deny him in case he did.

"You may go," he said. "But come back quickly."

Elladan slid from his lap and dashed off. Elrohir followed, calling for his brother to wait.

The painter did not stop, and so Elrond did not move. Their painter was very good but also very serious, and his apprentice, whoever it was in each year, usually did the communicating for him. Elrond sighed a little again. Celebrían's hand touched his arm and he looked to her.

"It's all right, Elrond," she said. She, in her infinite patience, seemed never to tire of their sons' energy, and he admired her for it. The same could not be said for him. The thought of continuing made him tired to his very bones. "They're just children."

"I know. But you've had Elrohir in your lap. He doesn't wiggle half as much."

"You're right," she said. She chuckled a little. "He's been very patient. He takes it quite seriously."

"He takes most things quite seriously." Elrohir was quiet, intensely focused, hard to distract and obedient, for the most part. Elrohir reminded Elrond of himself, perhaps more than he should when so young.

"We _could_ switch them…" Elrond said, managing a sly smile. Celebrían slapped his arm lightly and laughed.

"No! I can tell my own sons apart, and so can you," she said.

"Anyone else would not be able to."

"Whose room is the portrait going in? Not anyone else's, I hope," Celebrían said. Elrond had to concede. The painter coughed none too softly and they both settled down.

At last they looked back to the painter, and several minutes passed. Elrond was beginning to grow suspicious.

"They should not be taking this long," he said to Celebrían.

"I can go look for them," Celebrían said, looking to the painter as if asking his permission. His apprentice answered.

"It would be better if you went, my Lord. He's in the middle of the lady's face," she said.

Elrond rose to his feet with a weary nod. Celebrían caught his arm as he turned to go.

"Be gentle with them, Elrond. They don't mean any harm."

"I know."

* * *

Elrond spotted a pair of grey eyes and a dark head in the hallway as he walked past. The eyes widened, and the face quickly drew back when Elrond started coming down the hall.

"Ada's coming!" Elrond heard a loud whisper say, and there was some clattering. When he arrived, he found Elladan and Elrohir hidden in a nook in the wall, a cookie jar between them that they'd tried and failed to close and hide. Elladan had incriminating cookie crumbs all around his face, but Elrohir was clean, apparently having been given the duty of standing watch before he could eat.

"You were supposed to come back," Elrond said, frowning at the two of them. Elladan sat still under his gaze for a moment before slowly resuming his chewing of the cookie he'd stuffed in his mouth as a last resort when he heard Elrond's approach.

"Come now," Elrond said. He took the jar. "We'll have to bring this back to the kitchen and then we will go back. The painter will be grumpy with you now."

Elladan jumped down from the nook, apparently not too devastated at having been caught when he'd already gotten his prize. Elrond started walking towards the kitchen and he could hear them behind him.

"Ada?" He felt a tug at the end of his robe. He looked down and Elrohir was there, big-eyed again, biting on his quivering lip. "I didn't get any, Ada."

"Well you shouldn't have—" _Be gentle with them, Elrond,_ he heard Celebrían's voice say in his head, and he pressed his eyes closed, shaking his head.

"All right, all right. You can have some while we walk back upstairs."

He held the jar and dispensed them one by one for Elrohir. Elladan insisted he'd only had one cookie, but they both knew that was a lie, so Elrond estimated from the size of the jar that he'd eaten five, and therefore Elrohir could eat that many. At last they came back to the room, and as they stepped in the painter's apprentice held up her finger for them to wait a moment. Elrond lurched forward to grab Elladan, who had gone running in, and swung him up to hold him, and he picked Elrohir up in his other arm.

"He's nearly done with her face. Another moment," the apprentice said. If the twins came in, Celebrían would inevitably move.

"May I have my last cookie, Ada?" Elrohir asked from his left. Elrond nodded and Elrohir took the lid off the jar, grabbing a cookie and chewing it. Elrond watched the painter, paying no mind to his sons for a minute.

He blinked back to attention as he felt something being pressed against his lips.

"For you, Ada," Elrohir said. "Open." Elrond did not have the heart to say no to his sweet face, so he opened his mouth and accepted the cookie.

"You may come now," the apprentice said. Elrond lowered his sons to the ground and they went forward to take their places again. Elrond put the lid on the jar and slid it under his chair before taking his seat, and immediately Elladan was back in his lap. They sat in silence for a while.

"Can we see the picture?" Elladan asked after a few more minutes. The painter did not give a yes or a no answer, so Elladan looked to Celebrían.

"All right, just a peek," she said. "Be quick."

Elladan slid down and scampered over to stand behind the painter. Elrohir followed him.

Elladan was apparently appalled by what he saw. His face morphed in horror, and beside him Elrohir's eyes went wide. They shared a glance.

Elladan bolted, and Elrohir was quick beside him. Elrond got to his feet to stop them, but within a moment Elladan had pushed aside the tapestry on the wall and opened the secret door, and the two disappeared behind it.

"How did they-?" No one was even meant to know about the existence of the secret pathways through the walls of Imladris except him, Celebrían, and their closest confidants, but he supposed it was only a matter of time before the twins found it; they knew every inch of the House. Elrond rushed to open the door, but it was locked, and he could hear their little feet scampering away.

He thought about all the exits that the pathways had; there was no way he was going to be able to find them on his own. He looked over at the canvas to see what had spooked them, and saw that there was not yet any paint—the painter was still sketching, and on the twins themselves were just vague outlines, as they hadn't yet been there long enough to have any features. It was a visual reminder of how far they still had to go.

"I'll be back," Elrond said wearily. "Stay here," he told Celebrían, not wanting to take all the painter's subjects, and he set off to find Glorfindel and Erestor.

* * *

"You _lost_ your children?" Erestor said. His disapproval was apparent.

"Before nine o'clock! I think it's funny," Glorfindel said.

"I didn't lose them, they ran away. Are you going to help me or not?" Elrond said. Erestor grumbled but nodded.

"Good. I'll cover the exit into the Halls of Healing, Erestor watch the library, and Glorfindel, watch the outside exit." Those were the main exits, and he supposed he was lucky that there were so few. There was one more; the exit to the kitchens would be left open, but there would be chefs there, and Elrond would stop by there on his way downstairs to tell the chefs that if they saw his sons, they were to keep them there and send for him immediately.

He went down and did so, not telling the chefs the details, though the instructions did not seem to alarm them. He then went to the basement of the Healing Halls, where the door would let out in the back hall, an escape route to the bottom floor, which could be sealed off in the event of an emergency.

He stood at the door for a while. They hadn't worked out a system to tell one another if the twins were found, so he assumed that if Erestor or Glorfindel got them, they'd just have to walk down and get him.

After a few long minutes, he heard someone descending the stairs, and he looked up to see Glorfindel, carrying a twin under each arm. They were both giggling and squirming, and Glorfindel had a smile that was a mix of mischief and triumph. Erestor was following behind him.

"Got them," Glorfindel said. He put the boys on the ground before Elrond.

"Erestor, Elrohir has something for you," Elladan said. Erestor watched them warily; he was often the butt of their jokes. Elrohir stepped forward solemnly and opened his hand, and in it was a small spider that twitched to attention. Erestor blanched and immediately rushed back up the stairs, holding his robe in his hand. He _hated_ spiders.

" _Boys,_ " Elrond said, and the two of them whipped around to look at him, startled by the seriousness in his voice, and the way it had risen in volume.

"Come now. There's no need to torment Erestor like that. And you cannot just run away with things when you do not enjoy them! Your mother and I want this portrait, and so you will sit for it. You've disappointed us both today. Both of you must be more mature."

Elladan's face appeared stricken, for Elrond rarely spoke to them with such force. Elrohir was utterly silent, still, his face like stone.

"Come on. We'll go back upstairs," Elrond said, holding a hand out for each of them. They came forward and reluctantly held onto him, and he led them upstairs. Glorfindel trailed behind.

They went back to the sitting room and the twins climbed into their perches silently, muted still from their being stunned into obedience. Celebrían glanced over at Elrond with raised eyebrows, and he couldn't tell if she was disappointed or impressed with him.

Glorfindel stood in the doorway, and over the top of the painter's head, Elrond could see him watching them. His arms were crossed as he leaned in the doorway, and his face was unusually solemn, thoughtful.

Elladan in his lap was stiff, his hands folded neatly in his lap, and though his expression bordered on a sulk, he was holding it still.

"Elrond." It was Glorfindel's voice, and Elrond looked up to him. Glorfindel nodded towards Elrohir, and Elrond looked to see that his face was turned away and he could only see the back of his head, with his hair still neatly braided back behind his ears.

"Elrohir, look towards—" Elrohir's head shook, his hair tossing.

"Elrohir," Elrond said, a little more sharply, and from the corner of his eye he could see that Glorfindel was moving forward. He hadn't even finished his first step when Elladan shot to his feet.

"Leave him _alone,_ Ada!" he cried, and Elladan rushed to Elrohir, pulling him down from Celebrían's lap to hug him close. For the first time, Elrond saw the tears on Elrohir's face, still dripping down. Elrohir so rarely showed feeling that the sight of it struck Elrond like a knife in his gut. Elrohir's little hands clutched at Elladan's back, holding onto him and hiding his face away against his brother's shoulder. He cried silently, shaking, and Celebrían's eyes on Elrond's face were wide and accusing.

"What's wrong, brother?" Elladan asked. Elrohir sniffled and raised his head just barely, his eyes still dripping, and he looked at Elrond.

"I k-know we were bad," he said. "I know. And I know we want the picture done too. I like the pictures of us. But it's taking so _long_ and it's so _boring._ And I'm hungry and sleepy. And I just want it to be done already. Can't we at least take a break every once and a while?"

"All right, Elrohir. All right." It was Celebrían who replied, and Elladan released his brother so that he could go to her. She wrapped him in her arms and pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve to wipe his face. "We'll take breaks, my darling. I'm sure Glorfindel would be happy to get you some books and games and snacks, and when he returns we will take our first break. All right?"

"All right," Elrohir whispered. His voice was still very small. He swallowed and wiped the remaining tears from his cheeks. "I'm sorry I cried."

"You do not need to be sorry, my little one," Celebrían said. She hugged him close again and Elladan climbed onto her other leg to join the hug. "It's all right to cry when you're overwhelmed. We'll take care of it."

Elrond felt a wave of guilt in that moment that was so strong it took his breath away. Here he was, so concerned with getting this portrait done, and not concerned with the wellbeing of his sons, so young and so precious. He ought to cherish each moment with them, love their mischiefs and their laughter, even if in the moment it seemed like they lived to irritate him. They were his _sons._

Glorfindel had disappeared, assumedly to fetch the items Celebrían had mentioned. Celebrían stood with her sons in her arms and went over to the painter to speak with him briefly, and then they came back and returned to their seats.

A few minutes later, Glorfindel returned, and had apparently enlisted help from Erestor, who was carrying a stack of picture books and some drawing materials, as well as a few boxed games. Glorfindel had a tray of snacks, fruits and brownies and drinks.

"Break time!" Elladan said, clapping his hands and jumping up to meet them at the door.

Glorfindel put the tray down and Elrohir went forward to take a blueberry tart. He seemed to cheer up significantly when he bit into it. Elladan smiled when he saw Elrohir smile, and even though Elrohir did not notice, Elrond did.

Celebrían's hand rested on his arm. He looked down to her.

"I told the painter we'd take fifteen minute breaks after sitting for fifteen minutes. I think that will keep them happy for the moment."

Elrond nodded.

"Will he still finish?"

"We can come back another day if he doesn't. He said he could keep working during the breaks once the sketch is done."

He nodded. He still felt greatly affected by Elrohir's tears.

"I feel…" _Ashamed._ "I yelled at them."

"Then apologize to them," Celebrían said. "They'll learn from you."

He was reluctant to do so. _Good fathers do not have to apologize to their sons,_ he thought. He immediately realized the absurdity of that statement. Good fathers were good _because_ they apologized to their sons. He drew away from Celebrían, taking a brownie from the tray and going to sit by the twins. They looked at him almost warily.

"I wanted to say sorry to the two of you," Elrond said. "I should not have lost my temper. I love the both of you very much."

"It's okay. We _were_ being bad," Elladan said.

"Still. I could've talked to you without yelling."

"We forgive you, Ada," Elrohir said. He smiled a little and stood to kiss Elrond's cheek, and Elladan shot to his feet to do the same on the other side, leaving little blue lips on his cheek.

"I'm sure you were tired and hungry, too," Elrohir said thoughtfully. After a moment, he saw Elrohir's gaze shift to Erestor, and Elrond could see him thinking.

"Will you help me pour tea for Erestor?" he asked Elrond. Elrond nodded, smiling. Elladan had gone to try and convince Glorfindel to play a game with him.

Elrond poured a cup of tea for Erestor and a juice for Elrohir. Elrond sent Elrohir on his way with a cup in either hand and a picture book under his arm, and he approached Erestor, who was sitting in the corner, looking appropriately grumpy as he worked on his paperwork.

Elrohir walked slowly, carefully, his eyes locked on the surfaces of his drinks. When he got to Erestor, Erestor looked up at him, and though Elrond couldn't hear what Elrohir said, he watched Erestor's face soften, and at last he took the tea. Elrohir climbed into Erestor's lap and opened the book.

Celebrían's arms hooked around his elbow, her head resting on his shoulder.

"I'm proud of you," she said, reaching to touch his cheek and turn his face towards her. Her smile made him smile.

"I'm proud of _them_ ," Elrond said. "And us, because they're ours."

"They are," Celebrían said, smiling widening as she leaned up to press a light kiss to his lips.

The day continued thus. Fifteen minutes of sitting, during which the twins did their best to sit still, and then fifteen minutes of break. They played games, read books, and drew. They took a longer break for lunch, after which Glorfindel and Erestor left to attend to their duties.

They went to dinner and then came back for another hour, after which the painter freed them to go, saying that the painting would be finished and delivered in three days.

The twins had been drooping during the last hour, and now that they knew they were free, they climbed up into their parents' arms and fell asleep at the same moment. Elrond and Celebrían shared a look over their heads, a tender smile, and Elrond felt a disbelief that this was his life, that he had such a beautiful, perfect family and that he felt such boundless love for them. They sat there for a few more minutes until the painter had packed up his things, and he and his apprentice left them in peace.

* * *

The portrait came as promised. The apprentice had been sent to deliver it, though it was nearly tall as she was. It was beautiful, and the apprentice helped Elrond mount it on the wall beside the other portraits from the last several years. The painter had captured the barest hint of Elrohir's seriousness, Elladan's mischievous smile.

"It's still not completely dry. Try to make sure no one touches it over the next few weeks," she said. He thanked her quite dismissively. She lingered in front of his desk nervously.

"I…I did not know if you would want them," she started, taking from her satchel a bounded pile of papers. "Master Mithon instructed me yesterday to use the opportunity to practice sketching. I drew many things while you were all taking breaks—they're not particularly good…"

He took the stack and untied the string, opening the binder to look through.

There were dozens of sketches. They were beautiful, dreamlike, accurate and done with such impeccable timing.

The first was a picture of him and Celebrían looking at one another—she was saying something to him. His own face was serious, but hers was smiling, speaking, her beauty and grace encapsulated in the pencil lines. The next was after he'd returned with the twins the first time. He was looking into the distance, and Elladan was reaching into the cookie jar. Elrohir was looking at him accusingly, his brows drawn together, Elladan's misbehavior obviously a personal offense. Elrond couldn't believe he hadn't noticed that happening right beneath his nose.

During the time when he had left to once more retrieve his sons, there was a picture of Celebrían, smiling down at her clasped hands, the sun shining on her face and hair. He traced his finger over her face reverently, remembering acutely the moment he'd first seen her, bathed in sunlight and smiling. He was overwhelmed again by how much he adored her.

Elladan holding Elrohir. Them kissing his cheeks. Elrohir in Erestor's lap as Erestor read to him, laughing as Erestor made a silly voice. Elladan and Glorfindel playing their game. Their family sitting around a game, laughing. So many more.

He was overwhelmed. He piled the papers.

"These…are beautiful," he said. "How did you do so many?"

"Well, I—I did the original sketch, roughly, at the time it happened, but I have a very good memory, and I went back and did them better afterwards." She was blushing, wringing her hands under the pressure of praise.

"You have no idea how precious these are to me," he said. "I do not know how I can repay you. Did you get a portion of the painter's payment?"

She shook her head. "No—but it's all right, I was happy to do it. Your sons are precious."

"I would hire you to do something similar frequently, if you are willing," Elrond said. "What is your name?"

"Limmil," she said, shy still. Elrond smiled encouragingly to her.

"I'll be in touch," he said. She smiled and finally retreated.

Elrond sat at his desk and looked through the pictures several times. The preciousness of his family overwhelmed him, and he found it hard to believe he'd ever been so frustrated with his sons.

"What are those, Ada?" Elladan asked. His nose was poking over the edge of Elrond's desk, and Elrohir's soon joined him.

"No matter," Elrond said, filing the papers away in a drawer. "Let's go play outside."

Their shrieks of glee filled his heart with joy.

* * *

 _A/N: Something to hold you all over until I finish my revisions on Alone. The first draft is done. Hopefully it will be up at some point in August! I want to make sure its at its best before I share it with all of you._

 _Please review!_


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